


Theeth of a snake

by ZerpentEle



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Bathing, Biting, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cold Water, Consent, Demonic Crowley, Insecure Aziraphale (Good Omens), Kissing, M/M, Nonetheless horny Aziraphale, Penetration, Service Top Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Teeth, Tenderness, gentle biting, scales - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:34:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26629864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZerpentEle/pseuds/ZerpentEle
Summary: In heavy situations Crowley tends to lose his decency and gives in to his carnal desires he harbours.The Angel is more than fond of them, however sometimes it’s required one proves ones gentleness. Very much so when one has such terrifying teeth like a snake._____________________________________________He lifted one hand, laid it on Aziraphale's and held it on his cheek.This was for him. A request for a proof the angel would not flinch at the sight of him.Aziraphale didn’t, he wasn’t interested in Crowley's body.He only locked eyes with the demon. Studied their change. Hoping his memory fooled him and they wouldn’t turn into these cold, dangerously glowing and merciless spots in the dark. That they would stay warm and lighted with the feelings the demon expressed understated with the rest of him.
Kudos: 40





	Theeth of a snake

**Author's Note:**

> This is to all my traumata I got from *insert cheap excusse for "why its not non-con"* -vampire/werewolf fics. 
> 
> So I hope it turned out very soft.  
> eeennjooyy~

It wasn’t the first time for Aziraphale to see Crowley in his complete demon shape. Nor was it the first time they had sex under these circumstances.  
Indeed it was rather fetching to make use of his little “extras”. Aziraphale actually liked the idea of himself being sort of wicked and he was hungry for the joy Crowley could give him with his edges. Sometimes more than he considered possible.

Crowley’s black and red patterns, messy across his body, feeling interesting under his fingers.  
Clawed hands, telling him it actually wasn’t safe to be held by them and they were right. Through when the demon laid them on him it was pleasable somehow.  
The things he did with his tongue were extramundane, incomparable, luring. Aziraphale melted beneath it anytime, everywhere. It always was the first sign of Crowley’s lust. The light flickers, longing for an angelic taste.  
And his fangs. Teeth of a snake. Made to pin to its prey and inject venom. Aziraphale looked at them with a mixed feeling. With a shiver and goosebumps, with restrained want and subliminal caution. 

But Crowley’s unholy body had more to offer, not just on a physical level.

He would wrap around the angel in some way, tangle their limbs and Aziraphale was delighted by it. He embraced those tight hugs, how he drew him constantly closer.  
He couldn’t get enough of them as they made him feel so desired and treasured and most importantly beloved. 

Crowley’s strain increased with time.  
Just like now.

They were on it for some time now.  
Crowley’s eyes where drunk with lust and Aziraphale almost out of breath from his orgasms. The demon had cared well for him. He had come roughly twice as much as Crowley himself.  
And with each one the angel noticed him getting more addicted to his heat.

The demon pinned him onto the mattress, hung on his lips with hot breath, savouring licks.  
A tension raised in Aziraphale’s spine. It was this feeling.

He was helpless. Crowley held him down, constantly tightening his muscles and winding himself around him, not letting him move, holding him in place as he penetrated him.

“Crowley”, the angel breathed.  
He got no answer, guttural pants were the only response. 

Aziraphale felt a sudden whiff of insecurity, something told him this was not good and the realization he was lost tasted bitter in his mouth right after. 

He was defeated and at the mercy of a demon. 

Hot and freezing shivers spread over his body, Crowley squeezed and thrusted. Fierce and hard, deep and reckless.  
Hums turned into airy growls and strained hisses and brushed his ear. Aziraphale expected to feel his teeth any second.  
There was no escape from this, the angel had no choice as to accept whatever he was doing to him. It was strangely suffocating. 

Aziraphale pressed his cheek to his neck, searched Crowley, needed his soothing, and tried to calm down with a familiar shape under his palms.  
As much as one part of him wanted to get away, the other cried out for his dearest.

“Crowley”, he whispered shaking and the demon looked up, but kept going, thrusted, made him clench. No words of endearment, instead confusing intimacy. 

His eyes were glowing yellow, sparked with fire and filled with carnal desire.  
Between thin lips flashed teeth and the demon revealed them as he moaned. 

Aziraphale’s angelic sentiment cried havoc, told him to fight back. But it was lost. He was lost.

The demons head went down.  
A growl ringed in his ear, vibrated on his skin, hot breath hit Aziraphale’s throat and the angel screamed the demons name in horror.

Crowley froze. Entirely.  
His head went up in seconds and he looked worriedly in Aziraphale’s eyes.

“It’s too much, dear”, the angel whispered, not remembering how loud he had been.

Crowley left him immediately, unwrapped his lips and got up, sat back on his heels.  
Suddenly Aziraphale felt lonely. His absence let him breath but the air was cold. 

He sat up too and Crowley handed him a blanket. Head down, eyes turned away, body changed.  
Aziraphale looked at his sunken shape and shy presence and knew what Crowley needed the angel to tell him.

Want me to say something or shall I stay silent?  
Want me to touch you or to let you be?  
Am I supposed to stay or to leave?

Aziraphale did not know, he wanted both.  
He wanted Crowley to enfold him in his arms, tell him something sweet. Although it tensed in his neck as he thought about it in a strange way.  
Something baulked.  
This silent laid heavy on both.

Crowley got up, stood for a second indecisive, then looked quickly at the angel and lifted his index, indicated he would come back and left the room.  
Aziraphale waited. And regretted the situation.  
He wrapped the blanked around his shoulders and relished the contact at his back, felt less exposed all alone in the dark. He knew the more heated Crowley gets, the more carnal he becomes. Aziraphale was far from disliking it, he adored the way Crowley let him feel how much he wanted him.  
Nevertheless he couldn’t get the image of these teeth out of his head. It made him all jittery to recall how feral Crowley had just been. Almost like an animal. Driven by his own lust and not by Aziraphale. His belly felt something between nausea and excitation. 

As Crowley came back, he sat down at the edge of the bed, next to Aziraphale and placed his hand close to his. 

“Is it ok, if you come with me?”

“Sure”, the angel hesitated but stood up.

Crowley looked at him reasoning, then bend down and drew his arms slowly beneath Aziraphale’s knees and arm and lifted him up.

The angel escaped a surprised noise.  
“I do can walk alone, my dear”, he said, but laid his arms around his neck anyway to make it easier for Crowley. The demon hummed and carried him with heavy steps. 

“Ohhh”, Aziraphale made as they got to the bathroom and he saw what Crowley had done.  
A bathtub full of milky water with froth on top.

Crowley lowered him in.  
Water, hot and cosy, swallowed his body, embraced and enfolded him, as the demons arms delivered him to the element and kneeled on the ground.  
The froth gathered around Aziraphale’s skin, hide him beneath the surface. 

The demon watched his face and body relax and played with the water as he had nothing else to do. Stayed silent and reserved.

“Better?”, he asked after a while.

“Yes, dear. It’s a wonderful idea you had there.” 

“Good”, Crowley said and went silent again.

Aziraphale turned his head and looked at him in the light.  
He was not intimidating or anything, just abashed and careful now.  
Nothing on him reminded the angel of the image he had seen moments ago. Even now it was hard for him to believe he really thought Crowley would hurt him and he had to fear his presence. 

Maybe it was because of the light or his less dominant gestures or because he stuffed everything back into his mundane appearance.

Aziraphale sat upright and captured the demons face between his palms.  
“Change Crowley. Please.”  
Crowley sighed helpless, “as you wish.”  
He lifted one hand, laid it on Aziraphale’s and held it on his cheek.  
This was for him. A request for a proof the angel would not flinch at the sight of him.  
Aziraphale didn’t, he wasn’t interested in Crowley’s body.  
He only locked eyes with the demon. Studied their change. Hoping his memory fooled him and they wouldn’t turn into these cold, dangerously glowing and merciless spots in the dark. That they would stay warm and lighted with the feelings he expressed understated with the rest of him. 

They did not. But also did.

They fossilised, got rigid. These were no eyes to show any kind of emotion. These were eyes to hunt down pray.  
However the feeling remained. Crowley looked at him the way he always did and Aziraphale felt like a fool for considering it could be any different.

Aziraphale caressed his cheek with his thumb, stroke with the other hand down his neck to his shoulder. Felt his black scales move beneath it and enjoyed the silky touch.

This was Crowley. Giving his best to be a demon, in which appearance so ever. Not the other way around.  
He was not some foul hellspawn, deluding Aziraphale into thinking he was a bit of a kind person.  
He is kind. In his own way. 

Crowley’s head fell down and he brought Aziraphale’s hand up to his scalp, let it take rest there before letting go of it.  
Out of habit the angel began to run his fingers through his rusty red hair.  
He knew what he was trying. Aziraphale told him he was too much, so he tried to be less.  
Kneeling in front of the angel, hands and head down.  
Less scary and intimidating and demonic.

“Excuse me, Angel”, he said honestly and the warm feeling in Aziraphale’s chest turned into a smile.

“I’m sure on it”, he answered softly, ”You’re doing well. Thank you.” 

No one was to blame. Aziraphale was not stupid to think it all was due to the demons shape and avoiding him would not solve the knot in his throat.  
Though Crowley did his part. Made him feel save and valued again.  
Now it was to Aziraphale to get comfortable with him and do the same for Crowley.

He put his hand back on his cheek, lifted his head and leaned down to kiss his forehead. 

“Come in, my dear”

Crowley sighed and smiled, got up and carefully took the space Aziraphale made for him. As Aziraphale followed his movements, lithe and smooth, watched his big, clawed hand gripping the rim and his lean, black and red body sink into the milky water and as he then breathed deeply, his chest moving, teeth flashing behind his lips, as the water swallowed him as well, one could forget an angel is the same for a demon as the other way around. 

One blessing. A snap with his finger. Nothing more, just one quick miracle.  
The water would turn holy and the demon into a bubbling mush before disappearing entirely and for all eternity. 

But all Crowley was doing was to sit and look waiting at Aziraphale. He didn’t even thought about this possibility. Why should he? He trusted Aziraphale and he knew the angel didn’t thought about it as well. Why would he?

So why should the angel be alarmed by Crowley.

Aziraphale reached for the demon, pulled him closer and tried to fit his legs over Crowley’s, let them slide past his hip. Which wasn’t really easy in this limited room. Crowley grumbled and water sloshed on the floor, but they managed. 

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around the demon. He loved hugs. Being held by the other and hold them too. Such a simple intimacy. 

“Take hold of me, Crowley”, he said to the wet scales on his shoulder, “Gently.”

And the demon did. Laid his palms on Aziraphale’s nape and back, circled is fingers, careful not to scratch him with his nails. Drew his hand up and down, set a peaceful rhythm of water splashing calmly whenever it broke the surface.

Aziraphale played dreamily with his hair, hummed and leaned into the caress as Crowley messaged here and there. Chins resting on each others shoulder, chests close together.  
That’s it, Aziraphale thought as his whole body felt warm and he caught himself with a smile on his face. He savoured it entirely and his mind eased with every second.  
Crowley endeavoured to do things right and Aziraphale admired it.

He lifted and tilted his head, placed his lips on Crowley, his eyes fell shut and he got lost in them, felt the tender pressure behind them and his own, asked silently for his tongue and the demon opened for him, let him in first and the angel reached for it between pointy teeth.  
Until Crowley took charge to stop him from sojourning there. Instead he played with his forked tongue and did strange things with it as Aziraphale liked. 

Slightly the angel giggled, lifted his head to look in his eyes. Playful and wicked they glint back.  
It was not in Crowley’s intention, but Aziraphale felt lust rising in his spine as he thought about it. This wicked demon and the things he can and could do with him, which he still wanted to experience. Through soft this time.  
Warm, snugly and soothing like the water.

It was hardening between them and Crowley smirked, “So good? Want me to continue?” 

“By all means, my dear”, he gave him a quick kiss, but hesitated. 

Crowley noticed his slight frown.  
“I’m going to abstain”, he assured. 

Aziraphale nodded as to convince himself and turned his head. A whiff of thrill travelled down his spine as he handed him to the demons mouth. A silent insecurity. 

Crowley placed his lips on the corner of Aziraphale’s mouth, light and sweet. Went up his jaw to his temple. Each one was a promise, an apology and a worship.  
He raised a hand to Aziraphale’s cheek, gave him something to rest his head, as he kissed down his neck. Thoughtful and cautious. Not changing anything of their intentions. 

Another scaled hand travelled down his spine, along his side, between their bodies and found Aziraphale’s cock. Crowley stroke him carefully with the backside of his fingers, waited until he closed them around him one by one and circled his glans. Placidly and measured.

The demon listened to every whiff, every sigh as he pleasured the angel lightly. Sucked his skin only for a blink, increased his grip just for seconds, before letting go again.  
The angel wanted to feel it clearer. 

“Crowley”, breathed Aziraphale, pressing himself against the demons touches, “It’s alright. You can give me more.” 

Crowley did. His strokes grew stronger, his kisses lasted longer and so did Aziraphale’s sounds.  
They turned into moans as he got overwhelmed by the cares. 

He thought now the demon would lay him down, burry him in water and his weight. But the demon didn’t. He was true to his word, even though Aziraphale’s behaviour demanded more and more. 

The angel felt himself give in to the demon, how the reins slipped through his fingers and how he wanted the demon to take them.  
His angelic sentiment ringed the alarm. But Aziraphale overheard it as always.

The demon hardened next to him, his effort not to do so was vainly and his idea of making sure Aziraphale was the only one playing a role for him came out on the short end, as the angel moaned and melted in his hands. 

He wanted to wrap himself around him, feel his flesh when he squeezed, hold him tight, crawl inside his veins, hear him scream and plead and moan and make him come and sink his teeth in his skin, leave marks, grab his thighs, thrust into him, feel his nails dig in his own back, his strong arms wrapped around him as well, his thin whisper next his ear.  
But Crowley restrained.

The angel shivered. It was not lust, which caused him to stretch him for the demon, to expose himself as much as he wanted to envelop. Not only lust.  
There was also a whiff of… something.

Aziraphale felt this strange desire. The desire of Crowley being reckless with him. There was an arousing thrill as he thought of it. The thought of being dominated was tingling. Not with fear, but with thrill. Wonderful and scary thrill.  
Being at the demons mercy. At his and his daunting teeth.

Goosebumps creeped up his neck and caused his senses to sharpen. Suspicions formed in his head, how Crowley would locking him down as before, harsh and relentless. 

But he didn’t.  
He would. If Aziraphale asked him to.  
But he didn’t, because the angel requested him to be gentle.

Instead his tongue licked him coltish and his lips kissed the worried wrinkles from his eyes, his hands still holding him and rubbing him sensitive. He wanted the demon to take over, he wanted to surrender to his lead. But not right now. 

“Crowley”, the angel whispered thin and shuddering.

“Yes, Angel?” 

Crowley looked up, studied his expression and took his palm from his cheek.

“Crowley”, Aziraphale said again. More steady, liked how it felt speaking his name and looked him deep in the eye.  
The demon waited for him to say whatever it was the angel wanted to say and watched him taking breaths.

Aziraphale bestirred to untie the knot in his throat, which his angelic sentiment held so fiercely. As if the words would cause something irrevocable to happen. Something that would cause a change, just because it`s a first time. As if satisfaction was a point of no return. Bullocks! 

He chew on the words in his mouth. Tasted their impact, how the thrill was exiting, full of an interesting joy. Aziraphale wanted to know what it would feel like.  
Imagine it to hurt was terrifying, but Crowley was so tender and he felt at ease.  
And oh so wicked as he stepped over his angelic sentiment, opened his mouth and whispered in Crowley’s ear.

“Bite me, dear.” 

He did not flinch as he said it, but the demon blinked, stopped his movements irritated and leaned back to look at the angel.  
Aziraphale kissed him with a smile and squeezed him quickly in a sudden rush of excitement. Through he was not sure if it was of success or of tension as he got sight of Crowley’s teeth again, as the demon breathed in to say something, but remained silent.

“I’m sure”, Aziraphale declared, placing Crowley’s black hand back on his cheek and kept it there with his own, “gentle and kind as you are. That’s all alright.” 

The demon leaned forward, his head went down and Aziraphale clasped the arms around him, held on him tight and tried not to shiver as a hot whiff hit his neck.  
Crowley’s nose brushed his skin, he felt him inhaling deeply. 

It tensed in his nape, right behind his ears and down over his shoulders, something tugging at him from behind, wanted him to escape, to push the hungry demon of him.

Aziraphale stayed, aroused by this thrill and not feeling ashamed by it.  
It’s Crowley. His dear. Gentle and tender because he asked him to be. Going to bite him, because he wants him to. Because it all excites him.  
Will it hurt?  
Maybe burn?  
Can a bite be gentle?  
Will he bleed? 

Aziraphale felt every centimetre of his skin so very intense. The seconds were like hours.  
Crowley hovered over his skin, darted out his tongue, felt the pulse, lingered until he found the right spot and it went silent.

He kissed it and felt the same shudder, which ran through the angels body.  
One last time his tongue flickered, then he closed his eyes and opened his mouth. 

The teeth touched the skin and Aziraphale gasped for air, convulsed.

Crowley paused, briefly caressing Aziraphale’s erection to give him some pleasure, some distraction. Which his body approved and eased. The palm on his cheek cradled him sweetly.

“Husssh”

A soothing voice, a whisper reached Aziraphale’s ear through cotton, assuring him there was nothing to fear and he felt his lips moving.  
He trusted and believed as the demon hushed him, producing nothing but a hiss.

“Ssssshhh, Angel.”

He positioned his fangs anew and carefully pressed them onto Aziraphale’s skin.

The angel allowed it.  
He stood tall bevor his angelic sentiment, which send him puffs of regret as he let the demon harm his body. It was titillating, thrilling, the taste of something forbidden.  
Still he was calm, heart nearly stopped, accepting the demons tenderness and giving permission. 

Slowly the jaw around his neck closed.  
The fangs pierced his skin lightly and the angel whimpered, fisted in Crowley’s hair as he couldn’t stop but clenched. 

The demon lifted, widened his mouth and bit. 

His thin fangs sank in unresistingly. Long and slim, almost unnoticed.  
And his other teeth, pointy and crooked adhering on the angel, a growl vibrating in his throat.  
Through every twitch and jerk they held him as Aziraphale came, moaning strained in Crowley’s ear.

It was relieving as Crowley’s jaw loosened and his fangs left his flesh. It made Aziraphale sigh as his orgasm ebbed. 

He loosened his arms likewise, leaned back to gather his mind, or to get a kiss from Crowley.  
Or both.  
Or just a kiss would be enough. 

He opened his eyes and suddenly an arm passed between them, the showerhead was ripped from its holder, the tap yanked to the side and fully up. 

The demon yelled and cursed as the freezing water hit him straight on head and chest. 

“Crowley!”, Aziraphale exclaimed and squeaked as it splashed at him as well. He fell backwards and then struggled forward, reached for the tap to turn it off. 

“What on earth- “, Aziraphale bursted, but Crowley cut him off with a deep and shaking exhale, followed by a freezing shiver.  
The angel watched confused how the demon sank backwards into the water and how nothing but bubbles raised to the surface as he asked if everything was alright. 

Aziraphale looked around as if there were in public and he was the one to check if someone was watching while Crowley had fun.  
He put the showerhead back on its holder and looked over Crowley’s body, blurry and swirling through the water, looking human again. The eyes closed as if he was sleeping. 

“Come on now”, Aziraphale urged after a minute had passed to get the demon out of his time out, “the water is… dirty.” 

The surface bubbled and the demon came up, snorting and head shaking to get rid of the water.  
No more claws, nor a single scale was showing on his skin. Though as he opened his eyes they still were yellow, from corner to corner.

“So heavy, my dear?”, asked Aziraphale with a big mocking smile on his face and in his eyes. 

Crowley smiled back, “Angel you drove me close to madness. Demanding me to be gentle-”, he stopped and his eyes jumped to Aziraphale’s neck.  
The angel slapped his palm on the wound.  
The cold water really made him forget about it, but now he felt the pulse beneath his skin, right where Crowley’s buried his fangs two minutes ago. 

Cautious he stroke his fingers over it, which surprisingly didn’t hurt, nearly not as much as he thought it would anyway. 

Crowley starred at him silently, followed his expression.  
As Aziraphale drew his hand back he expected to see blood, but there was nothing. He touched the spot again, but there was nothing but water on his fingers.  
Confused he lifted his eyes to the demon.

“I was certain you bit through.”  
“Not really”, Crowley explained, “didn’t wanted them to.”

“Oh”, made Aziraphale, not knowing how it worked, but it did. He also didn’t knew if it made him feel relieved or disappointed, some kind of both. But he smiled.

“S nothing more than a hickey. Really”, Crowley reached for Aziraphale’s neck and the angel let him.

“How was it?”, the demon asked, moving his thumb carefully over the red skin, “did you come because of my hand or because of my fangs?” 

“Well. Eh”, Aziraphale swallowed, ”mainly because of your fangs.”

Crowley smirked all the way up to his ear.  
“Naughty angel!”

“But your hand did things too!”, Aziraphale defended himself, “what about you?” 

“What?”  
“Did you come?”  
“You damn bet I did”

“Wait. Just from biting me?”, Aziraphale didn’t recall Crowley having more than two hands.  
Crowley hemmed and hawed.

“From your hug, your permission, your moan, take your pick”, he finally grumbled, seeming to be very tired and wide awake at the same time.  
“Alright dear”, the angel charmed, delighted such little things made him flustered, “let us change the water, shall we?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
